


Masquerade

by Lieju



Category: Spirou et Fantasio
Genre: more platonic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first meeting of Fantasio and Spirou.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

 

 

"Here you go!"

The tall but scrawny blond heaped his luggage on the bellhop.

 

Spirou wrestled with the bags, trying not to drop anything.

 

"Room 1938," the man told him.

 

"Yes, Sir," the bellhop answered, and hurried after him.

Spirou glanced at the man while they were waiting for the lift, evaluating him.

 

He wasn't old, but older than him at any rate.

 

Very well dressed, but someone who wasn't used to either travelling or staying in high class hotels.

It was obvious he had no idea how to deal with a bellhop, how he should have let Spirou pick his luggage without prompting, and let him guide him to his room.

 

And what was up with his hair?

 

They stepped into the lift.

He turned to Spirou. "So, I hear this hotel has a masquerade party tonight."

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

The blond, Mr Fantasio according to the label on his luggage, nudged him, winking.

"Sounds like a hoot, eh?"

 

So, one of these kinds of customers, then.

Spirou didn't usually make conversation, apart from the necessary 'Yes, Sir' and so on, but sometimes customers tried to make small talk.

 

Generally ones like Mr Fantasio who weren't used to dealing with people who were around and paid to be ignored.

That was Spirou's job, he didn't expect people to try to treat him like an equal when he was working. He was supposed to blend into the background, barely noticed, when he did his job well. And to be honest, he quite liked being an outside observer, trying to figure out people who walked through the doors of the hotel.

 

"Are you planning to take part, Sir?" he asked, to humour him. The event was invitation-only, and only for the highest levels of society, but maybe he had connections, or was one of the younger generation who had the money but no upbringing.

 

Mr Fantasio winked again and whispered conspiratorially. "Maaaybe. Lot of interesting people are bound to be there, hm?"

 

Or maybe he was...

 

"You haven't happened to see anyone interesting?"

 

A journalist, then. Or someone else trying to get a story.

 

Possibly someone trying to get in contact with a rich businessman.

 

Spirou saw a lot of those kinds of people there in hotel Moustique.

And he reacted like he always did.

He smiled, and told him nothing of value. "I wouldn't know, Sir."

 

Luckily, the lift arrived at the right floor right at that moment.

"If you'd follow me, Sir," he hurried to step out of the lift and didn't stop until the door of the room.

 

"Okay, thanks," Mr Fantasio told him, taking his bags.

 

The door shut behind him.

 

So, no tip.

 

...

 

Spirou was just ending his work-day, when he spotted the man again.

 

Slipping into somewhere where he definitely wasn't supposed to be.

 

It was obvious what he was planning.

The main entrance to the masquerade ball was well guarded, you needed to have an invitation to get in.

 

Unless of course you were a part of the staff.

Then you slipped in and out indiscreetly, most likely carrying refreshments. The large hall where the ball was held had several concealed doors leading to the back rooms and the kitchens.

And it seemed he had figured this out.

 

Spirou hesitated.

 

He should have gone and told the porter or someone else in the staff about what he had seen.

 

But, on the other hand, his workday was over, and when he took off his red bellhop uniform he shed off all his duties for the hotel.

 

He got an idea.

 

He walked to the dressing room, and found some of the waiters' uniforms there.

He was a professional bellhop, but he had substituted for the waiters at the hotel occasionally.

 

Never in one of these masquerades, though. In these they wanted their best staff.

 

But he could slip in with a plate, and if anyone asked why he was there he could just-

 

He stopped at the sight of a clothes rack full of cloaks and masks.

 

The quests arrived in costume, of course, but the hotel had few extra costumes back there just in case a guest lost theirs or got it dirty.

 

Spirou took one of the black cloaks that would hide his suit to make him look less like a waiter, and after some debate, picked a stylized squirrel-mask that would hide not only his face but his recognizable hair as well.

 

And before he could change his mind, he slipped through the door and between the curtains, and was in the ball.

He stopped, realizing how crazy and foolish it was.

 

If he got caught, he would be fired and would never be employed by any hotel.

 

And what was he even planning to do? Go find Fantasio and remove him discreetly?

 

To find out what he was up to? But what he cared?

 

He almost jumped when a waiter (whom he recognized) stopped next to him.

But to Spirou's relief, her expression stayed neutral, and he realized she was waiting for him to take an appetizer.

 

Some kind of an olive on a stick.

 

People seemed to be chatting, some were dancing middle of the floor.

 

And then he saw him.

 

Fantasio was wearing a tuxedo and a bird-mask, but his weird unruly hair was a dead giveaway.

 

Spirou walked to him, not even certain what he was planning to do.

Tell him to leave, maybe.

 

But when he reached him, he had yet another idea, and gave him a small bow.

"May I have this dance?"

 

The trespasser hesitated a bit, but took his hand."What? Erm, sure."

 

He followed the younger man to the dance floor where he seemed to regain some of his composure, and took the lead.

Which was good, because Spirou wasn't exactly a dancer.

 

But when the taller man guided him to a waltz he couldn't help a grin!

 

No-one knew who he was, and if either of them got caught-

 

He decided not to worry about it.

 

"So, enjoying the party so far?" he asked.

 

"Yes," Fantasio gave him a look. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

 

"Perhaps," Spirou told him, amused by how he probably thought he was dancing with a count or a millionaire.

 

"Yes, well, this is a great party. Not as good as last year, of course."

 

"Hm? You come to this ball every year?" Spirou asked, deciding to play along for a bit.

 

"Of course. I can't say who I am, of course..."

 

"Of course," Spirou told him. “This is my first one.”

 

Fantasio relaxed visibly. "Ah, well, if you need to ask me anything, or want me to introduce you to someone-"

 

The song ended, and they made their way back.

 

Spirou decided enough was enough,and guided him behind the curtains.

 

Fantasio coughed. "Ehm, I hope you aren't planning to get me alone to-"

 

Spirou hushed him. "Shh, do you want to get caught? Fantasio."

 

The eyes behind the bird-mask widened. "You! You're the bellboy!"

He sighed. "And here I was sure I was dancing with a famous actor or something."

 

"Be glad it was me." Spirou pulled him through the emergency exit. It was a wonder how they hadn't gotten caught, considering the blond was making no effort to lower his voice.

 

"Oh, are you taking me in?"

 

Spirou stared. "I'm getting you out."

 

They stepped through the door and into the brisk autumn night.

 

"What? No, I didn't even get any pictures-"

 

"Well, the door just closed behind you," Spirou pointed out.

 

Fantasio sighed and removed his mask.

"Well, that was a bust. And an expensive one. Do you have any idea how much a night in here costs?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Oh, yeah, right, you work here. But wait a second, I'm guessing this isn't the usual way you deal with uninvited guests."

 

Spirou shrugged. "I took pity on you, I suppose."

 

"Ha! We would make quite a team, Mr-?"

 

"Spirou."

 

"Fantasio and Spirou. Yup, I like it."

 

The redhead turned his back, ignoring his comment. "I need to get my costume back before people notice it went missing."

 

He removed his mask and cloak and started to walk to the employee entrance.

"Wait!"

 

Spirou stopped, and turned around. "Yes?"

 

"Here, take my card anyway." A calling card was pushed at Spirou.

 

"I won't need it."

 

"You might!" Fantasio draped his arm around Spirou's shoulders. "Think about it, wouldn't you want to be more than a bellhop?"

 

Spirou shook his arm off. "It's a perfectly respectable profession."

 

"Yes, yes, of course. But it's no investigative journalist! Or a photographer, you could do that too."

But he seemed to decide to stop insisting, and turned towards the main entrance of the hotel.

 

"I got to get my stuff from my room anyway, well, it was nice meeting, Spirou. Think about what I said, okay?"

 

Spirou turned to walk to the other entrance on the back.

 

He looked at the calling card.

 

_Mr Fantasio, hm? What, does he not have a last name?_

 

Spirou stopped next to a dumpster.

 

He really should have just thrown the silly card out.

 

After some thought he pocketed it.

 

Being a bellhop was an okay life, and he didn't exactly have aspirations to become a journalist.

 

But maybe he might give Fantasio a call.

 

Not to agree to be partners or anything.

 

But just talking to him wouldn't hurt.

 

Who knew, it might be interesting.

 


End file.
